Rooftop Gourmet

This past week got me thinking about lobster for a number of reasons. My mother-in-law asked me for a photograph that I took about a year ago for the blog, when I made a Prosciutto-wrapped lobster tail. She wanted to blow it up on a canvas and hang it in her new Cape house. I was flattered by the idea, and even threw my artistic spin on it, changing it to black and white, with the exception of the giant red claw, restrained with a turquoise rubber band; which just so happened to be the color that matched everything else in the kitchen.

I’m very proud of my first photograph hanging as a piece of art in someone’s home  and I plan to deck my kitchen out in tantalizing photos now as well. (If anyone is interested in me blowing up a picture for them, I’m very cheap)! So I started thinking about the Cape, with lobster on my mind and for the past three years that I’ve been visiting my wife’s Cape house in New Seabury, no trip is ever complete without a visit to the Raw Bar.

Since my first encounter with the Raw Bar, I will NEVER order a lobster roll anywhere else in the entire world.

They make hands down the best lobster roll in the history of lobster rolls. As massive as the roll actually is, they keep it as simple as can be. One roll has the equivalent of lobster meat of anywhere from 3 to 4 two pound lobsters.

Yes. That was not a typo. You buy a lobster roll, you eat the meat from roughly four lobsters, gently tossed in a light mayo, and jam-packed into a measly hot dog bun.

The picture that I posted doesn’t even do it justice because I think I ate at least nine claws that were dangling off the top of that mound! If you finish this thing after a long day at the beach, washed down with a couple of beers, it is nap time.

With all of these lobster ideas and cravings running through my head all week, I had to make a lobster dish that was rich and hearty enough for the winter months. I decided on a classic lobster risotto with a saffron base.

I picked up two pounds of fresh lobster meat from the dock at Yankee Lobster (major shortcut) and a few other ingredients from Whole Foods, and in no time my dish would be assembled.

Since risotto is pretty rich and heavy, I decided to make a quick salad to go with it to keep my spirits up regarding my new early morning gym workouts. I wanted some fresh and bright ingredients that were simple and worked well together.

I shaved some fennel bulb, and celery stalks and tossed them with freshly picked parsley and celery leaves, along with some tangerine supremes. When sliced paper thin, the celery and the fennel work amazingly well together, and the oranges are a classic combo for the licorice-flavored fennel.

I drizzled a simple vinaigrette over the top and the abundance of parsley leaves made the whole salad come together.

As for the risotto, I just started off the way any risotto would go; sautéing minced shallots in butter, and then toasting the Arborio rice in the pot. I hit the pot with a good dose of dry white wine as well as glug of Cognac to add some serious richness to this risotto.

After the alcohol burnt off, I started adding my stock which was a combo of chicken stock and fish stock. Ladle by ladle, as it simmers I stood over the steaming pot, stirring constantly. About ten minutes in, I started to add my saffron.

Saffron is the most expensive spice in the world. It’s actually the tiny threads picked from the insides of certain flowers, and it has an extremely unique flavor.

It looks like clown pubic hair but it has remarkable coloring ability and a flavor and aroma that is to die for. It is traditionally used in risotto a la Milanese and in the Spanish staple, Paella. It’s golden hue is absolutely mesmerizing.

I crushed up the burnt orange threads in my palm and dusted them into the pot and almost immediately the color of the risotto went through a Midas-touch makeover.

The texture of the rice was getting softer so I started to add the chopped pieces of succulent lobster to keep them warm. Just before the rice was al dente, I pulled the pot from the burner and tossed in some finishing butter, and a touch of cheese.

Once I impatiently waited a few minutes, I vigorously whipped the risotto with a wooden spoon to achieve the texture that I wanted. A handful of sliced chives and it was complete. I love my risotto with a nice “wavy” characteristic to it. I hate when risotto is so starchy and sticky, that it can be formed into patties.

I want it to be almost, borderline soupy, but with a slight crunch to the grains. I felt that this dish was bold enough to embrace a bottle of red wine, so I picked a fantastic Super Tuscan that I got a great deal on. A Super Tuscan is just a silly term that Italians made up to help market their wine to the American palate.

There are really no rules for Super Tuscans, despite the many rules involved in Italian winemaking. A Super Tuscan is just a term for any wine that is a blend of different grapes grown in Tuscany, that is a de-classified Italian wine.

If it was a classified wine as say a Chianti Classico, it would have to be at least 80% Sangiovese grape grown in the town of Chianti. There are so many laws (I.G.T, D.O.C, D.O.C.G, etc) in Italy classifying wines, but Super Tuscans, are generally a blend of Sangiovese, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah, or any combination of these grapes.

The 2007 Valdisanti is a blend of 70% Cabernet Sauvignon, 20% Sangiovese, and 5% Cabernet Franc. It is am amazingly aromatic wine. It exudes aromas of dried figs, muddled black cherries, smoke, and roasted herbs.

On the palate, it’s big and full-bodied, with dark fruit, earthy undertones, and a finish that gives off a flavor of a sweet Balsamic vinegar reduction.

The wine is so perfect with the complex saffron notes and the rich risotto, with just enough acidity to cut through the creamy rice. Going back and forth between the savory risotto and the fresh salad was a beautiful contrast.

I was so happy thinking about the Cape in the dead of winter, and as we were washing dishes and cleaning up on a full stomach, it started snowing. Immediately my dreams of a Raw Bar lobster roll were put on hiatus for another couple of months. Leftovers will have to do for the time being.

Whenever I have trouble thinking of something new and creative to make for dinner, my Irish heritage shines through and I typically fall back on a meat and potatoes dish. As beautiful as the simplicity of a great steak and a fresh spud can be, I needed to spruce up last night’s dinner with a little last minute flair.

My wife called me to suggest picking up sushi take-out for dinner while I was already in the checkout line at Whole Foods. I wasn’t planning on blogging, rather slapping two strips on the grill and calling it a night  but sitting in traffic with sushi on my mind got me thinking creatively.

I knew that I had a few sheets of Nori at home, burning a hole in my cupboard so I figured that I would incorporate a sushi ingredient into a rather boring meat and potato, weeknight meal.

Nori is the dried seaweed wrap that is typically used to hold together a Maki roll. They come in rather large sheets and when they receive moisture they loosen up and become incredibly pliable. On a nutrition level, Nori is incredibly good for you. The seaweed is ridiculously high in protein (44g. per 100 grams of Nori), and dietary fiber (36g. per 100 grams of Nori), not to mention healthy levels of potassium, calcium, zinc, iron, and vitamins A, B, and C.

In terms of flavor profile, like many Asian ingredients, Nori is a whopping mouthful of the fifth, sensory taste, Umami.

Other Umami-rich ingredients include soy sauce, fish sauce, mushrooms, fermented soybeans, and especially heavily marbled red meats. So what better way to pack a punch of Umami than to wrap an entire NY Strip in Nori? It was my own little play on “Maki”, which is the term for a sushi roll that is wrapped in Nori.

Technically, my dish has nothing to do with sushi, but the concept of wrapping, or coating my protein in seaweed was enough for me to borrow the term. I sliced three sheets of the dried Nori which looked like glossy alligator skin, into small squares and put them into my spice grinder along with a handful of whole black peppercorns.

I roughly pulsed the mixture and “dusted” my strips with the jet-black powder creating a not-so-classic, classic Steak Au Poive, or in this case, Au Nori-Poive.

The crystal-like shards of seaweed gripped and clung to the fat-laced protein and glistened in the overhead light.

While the steaks came to room temperature on the countertop and took some time getting to know their new rub, I prepped the potatoes. I freaking love potatoes. I can’t live without them. My wife is a rice girl and doesn’t understand my potato infatuation.

Although rice probably would have been more appropriate “sticking”with the sushi theme, like I said, I had already purchased some baby, Yukon Golds. I started fooling around with one of them on the cutting board, slicing them paper-thin, while considering maybe a classic baked Au Gratin, when suddenly my knife stopped about 1/16th of an inch before the base of the spud.

I continued this procedure until the entire potato kept its round shape, with hundreds of little “slits” running throughout the whole. When I fanned out the wafers with my thumb, the potato looked like a baby armadillo.

I decided to dowse them in olive oil, salt, and pepper and roast them whole, the way that I would if I were making a simple roasted potato. About halfway through the cooking process, after the slits opened up a touch wider, I topped each with a pat of butter so that it slowly dripped into each and every nook and cranny.

When the grill was hot, I tossed my black steaks on the grates and eagerly watched what would happen to the previously roasted seaweed. One thing that I noticed is that it formed an incredibly crispy crust and kept the inside of the steak impeccably juicy. The Nori seemed to lock arms with each other and encapsulate all of the beef flavor inside the strip.

I also grilled some halved, spring onions that served as a base for my beef. The charred, bright green stalks are one of my favorite accompaniments to steak. I happened to have a few jumbo shrimp in the fridge as well, so I opted for a surf and turf meal. After all, it was a sushi-themed meat and potatoes dish.

I just sautéed the shrimp in a fiery chili oil and used the langoustines to garnish my Steak Au Nori. When all was plated and devoured, I didn’t know which aspect I should rave about more… the Nori steak or the armadillo potatoes?

Both were so amazing! The steak was perfectly cooked and when I sliced it thin, the rich crust gave a beautiful texture and the juicy beef literally melted on my tongue. The Nori was subtle but completely enhanced the beef flavor without any threat of overpowering. The potatoes were crispy on the outside and soft and buttery towards the middle.

In an attempt to prolong the enjoyment, I slowly sliced each wafer off one by one and ate them individually like saving the last couple potato chips in the bag because you just don’t want it to end. The spicy shrimp was simply an over-indulgence but enjoyed nonetheless.

I paired this dish with the “hot-off-the-press”, 2010 vintage of the St. Cosme Cotes du Rhone; one of my favorite producers in the Rhone Valley because the winemaker is not afraid to bump up the levels of Syrah. In fact, I believe that this vintage is pretty close to 100% Syrah. To me, Syrah gives off an almost Umami-like flavor, with notes of roasted red meat char, bacon fat, and Balsamic vinegar reduction. These elements are exactly what I taste in this wine.

Along with some dark blackberry and blueberry fruit, balanced with some sharp acidity and silky tannin. Big enough to hold up to a grilled NY Strip, but still delicate enough to let the subtle Nori flavors shine through. There is even an intriguing taste entwined in the myriad of flavor during the finish that I couldn’t quite put my finger on; almost mushroomy, or of roasted seaweed-like but hey… my head was elsewhere. After tonight, I have a new appreciation for the intricate complexity of Nori, sushi, and a whole jar of Nori-Peppercorn dust that I’m ready to sprinkle the magic on whatever protein makes its way into my kitchen. Possibly even a late-night popcorn snack for starters. It’s good for me right?

The South End just got a whole lot more convenient… and organic! In order to prevent complete carnivorous and primal weeknight dinners, my continuous trips to the Butcher Shop were typically followed by another stop at a grocery store or market to grab some fresh vegetables. Just recently, Siena Farms from Sudbury opened a year-round Farmstore adjacent to the Butcher Shop.

This almost-one-stop shopping has made my life so much easier! It’s a tiny little shop, about the size of my bedroom closet but they make great use of the space and constantly stock fresh produce that changes with the season and whatever is fresh.

Here is their mission statement about their produce, “Siena Farms’ produce is grown using the traditionally sustainable farming practices of modern organic agriculture; free of chemical herbicides, pesticides, and synthetic fertilizers. The soil fertility of our fifty-acre farm is built annually through the use of natural composts, cover crops and certified organic fertilizer, which together supply valuable nutrients to the farm’s soil – and thus to your produce”.

The other night, I made my way over after work to find something to make for dinner. They had so much amazing produce that I couldn’t resist grabbing a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I picked up some fresh artichokes (which I hardly ever cook due to the annoying prep work), watermelon radish, and some homemade Burrata cheese. So random… I know. I felt like I had just opened my wicker basket on an episode of Chopped and had to make a decent meal out of three outrageously different ingredients.

I stepped into the Butcher Shop and gazed intently into the glass doors, mesmerized like the little girl in the Poltergeist. The wheels started turning and a few light bulbs went off before snatching a couple of homemade venison sausages. It can be quite hard to create a dish around a type of cheese but I felt that the venison sausage could work well with the Burrata.

Whenever I serve a type of game meat, such as duck or venison, I feel that it’s beneficial to balance it with something sweet on the plate. I happened to have a jar of fig jam that I thought would work perfectly with both the creamy cheese and the deer sausage.

After peeling, trimming, and prepping the artichokes, I dipped them in acidulated water to keep them from turning brown. Once they were completely dry, I roasted them in the oven until each and every leaf of the heart was brown and crispy.

I also roasted the watermelon radish which I think is one of the coolest vegetables visually and in terms of taste. From the outside, it’s white and hairy, just absolutely gross looking. When you slice into it, it looks exactly like a baby watermelon! When eaten raw, it has a fruity, spicy and peppery note to it, and when it gets roasted and sprinkled with sea salt, they become buttery and rich.

After caramelizing handfuls of onions, I placed the Burrata on top of the golden brown pile and warmed it in the oven. Burrata is a special type of cheese that I can’t resist buying whenever I see it (obviously).

In terms of how it’s made, it starts off very similar to fresh Mozzarella. When it’s still quite soft, the ball of cow’s milk cheese is actually injected with heavy cream or Marscapone to make it even richer and creamier. So when you slice into it, instead of a firm Mozzarella, the cheese is softer and oozes with an intense, rich, creamy flavor. It’s like the “over-easy” version of a ball of Buffalo Mozzarella.

I roasted the plump venison sausages in the oven gently so that the casings didn’t burst, and the delicious juices didn’t run. The outside achieved that crispy, “pop” and the inside was still moist and medium rare (being venison, it was okay to undercook the sausage slightly). The Butcher Shop added some lovely spices to compliment the game meat, such as what I believe was nutmeg, cinnamon, or clove.

I served the sliced venison sausage around the gooey Burrata, topped with a sticky, fig jam. Surrounding the meat were the crispy chokes, colorful radish, and some refreshing celery leaves.

This whimsical dish was rather hard to muster up a pairing, but I ended up popping a wine that I had been saving for quite some time. The 2005 Francois Gaunoux Pommard La Tavannes from Burgundy France was my wine of choice. Red Burgundy (Pinot Noir) is considered to be some of the most intriguing, complex, and elegant wine in the entire world. It is also extremely versatile when it comes to food pairings.

This wine was somewhat light but had tons of earthy, funky characteristics combined with ripe strawberry and raspberry fruit that balanced nicely with the gamey venison and creamy cheese. The subtle spice notes in the finish rounded out the experience and gave this seven year old wine some serious credibility. The warm ball of Burrata oozed with gooey cream that was stipend by the sticky jam and then mopped up by a slice of crispy sausage.

One amazing bite after another, concluded with a crispy contrast in lieu of a roasted artichoke heart. Surprisingly, a spur of the moment stop in my new favorite, year-round farm stand turned into an incredible meal. How could it not when the produce is this fresh? At least I’ll save money on gas because I won’t be making more than one stop on the way home from now on!

If there was one word that could sum up the evening of December 31, 2011 it would be indulgence.

My wife and I held a dinner party for seven of our closest friends on New Year’s Eve to celebrate the end of what was probably the busiest year of our lives.

When it came to menu planning, I may have gotten a little bit carried away, but as the clock struck midnight, and we all sat at the table, exhausted, clutching our elastic waistbands and simultaneously picking at cheese and coconut cake, it was totally worth the effort. Everyone was happy, thankful, and over-indulged.

There’s something calming and comforting, spending the night with great food, close friends, and delicious wines rather than fighting crowds for cheap Champagne at a bar  or baring the elements in Times Square. Let’s just say that we really ended 2011 with a bang… or was that the sound of someones belt buckle popping off?

Here is a copy of the New Years Eve menu:

First Course:

Assorted Cheeses From Around the World

Foie Gras Mousee’

Marinated Olives

Duck Liver & Black Truffle Terrine

Caviar

Second Course:

Crispy Braised Pork Belly, Carrot Puree’, Pickled Apples

Third Course:

Island Creek Oysters 2 Ways

Classic Baked Rockafeller

Freshly Shucked with Ossetra Caviar, Creme Fraiche’, Tarragon

Fourth Course:

Baked Escargot Gratin; Garlic-Parsley Butter, Warm Baguette

Fifth Course:

Raviolo Uovo

Wild Mushrooms, Thyme-Butter, Parmigiano-Reggiano, White Truffle Oil

Sixth Course:

Sliced Beef Tenderloin with two Sauces;

Classic Bordelaise’ & Creamy Horseradish-Tarragon Sauce

Pommes Puree’, Roasted Butternut Squash & Raw Kale Salad

Seventh Course:

Double Coconut Cake

I get cold sweats just typing that up again! Thankfully, I received a ton of help from some of my favorite vendors and friends. I spent the last week of the year brainstorming, prepping, and and anxiously awaiting our event. Each course represents one of my all-time favorite foods, whether it is in its natural state, prepared classically, or with a new and exciting twist. Thanks to Wasiks Cheese Shop in Wellesley (http://www.wasiks.com/), I had more cheese in my 900 square foot condo than the entire country of Switzerland.

Everything you could possibly imagine, from sharp and nutty Gruyere to oozy gooey, buttery Triple Creme. I also had a pound of Foie Gras Mousse’ that I picked up from the Butcher Shop in the South End. It was so rich but light and airy at the same time.

We spread it like butter on slices of a fresh baguette and let the goose liver melt in our mouths. The texture was like whipped butter and when combined with a few crumbles of the pungent, blue cheese it was heaven in a single bite (That last phrase will most likely become repetitive throughout this whole post). After we grazed the cheese boards, everyone sat down at the table that my wife so wonderfully decorated with white roses and printed menu cards. I brought out the first course which shows off my love for the ever-so versatile pig.

I had braised pieces of fatty pork belly in winter spiced ale, soy and aromatics until it was completely tender, about 3 hours. Right before I served it, I crisped up the outsides of the pork belly in a skillet and served it atop a silky carrot puree. The bright orange color of the puree was a beautiful contrast with the rustic hunk of pig.

For a slight pop of acidity, I used my melon-baller to release little balls of granny smith apples, in which I pickled with cinnamon sticks, and cloves to infuse a wintery spice. It gave the oversized cube of bacon a familiar companion of applesauce and cinnamon aromas and flavors that it’s used to. The juicy belly meat, woven in between layers of succulent fat seemed to dissolve in my mouth. The sweet carrots and sharp pickles were exactly what the belly needed to help balance out the dish.

It was a perfect first bite to lead into an even more extravagant meal. The next course required some serious grunt work. A dinner party set to the theme of indulgence wouldn’t be complete without some fresh oysters. We picked up two dozen of one of my favorite varieties, Island Creek oysters from Duxbury, MA. They always seem to be the perfect size, not too small and not intimidatingly large.

They have striking minerality and freshness with a plump body, and a rather salty finish that I can’t get enough of. With the first dozen, we decided to bake in the classic Rockafeller style. I topped each bivalve with crispy bacon, sautéed spinach, shredded Gruyere cheese, heavy cream, Pernot, and fresh lemon juice. After a few minutes in the broiler, the cheese has melted and the contents of the deep, metallic shell was bubbling away. The rich, creamy and nutty topping had an underlying hint of anise aroma from the evaporated, French liquor.

Trying to shoot them back without making loud, and obnoxious, “mmmmmmm”, sounds was a real feat. In the meantime, I shucked the other dozen and served them on ice with a dollop of creme fraiche, a spoonful of Ossetra caviar, and a sprig of fresh tarragon. In my opinion, this could have been my favorite bite of the evening. It was simple, luxurious, and gratifying; not to mention the balance of flavors really just worked well together. As the last oyster shell was tossed into the garbage, the smell from the next course had already permitted throughout the entire house. I had a baking dish in the oven, littered with baby snails that were all bubbling away in a homemade garlic-parsley butter and topped with breadcrumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

Thankfully, the couples at dinner weren’t on a first date, because this butter was garlicky! We plated this course family-style and all of us dove in with chewy bread to soak up the cheesy butter. The snails were delicate and tender, offering earthy, mushroomy flavors as they swam in the bright green butter.

The oysters and snails course was paired with some Grand Cru Chablis from William Fevre that was crisp and refreshing. Notes of butterscotch, baked apples and puff pastry came off the initial wave of aroma, but the wine was perfectly balanced, clean, and crisp on the finish. Just when everyone thought that the night was dying down, we hit them with the next course which is hands down, one of my favorite pasta dishes I have ever eaten. Thanks to Leigh from Nella Pasta (http://www.nellapasta.com/), this single Raviolo was freaking amazing!

Raviolo Uovo is only one ravioli, filled with a creamy ricotta filling and a fresh egg yolk. Leigh put some serious time and effort into not only making the homemade pasta, but shopping for the highest quality local ingredients. She rolled out the pasta into thin sheets and filled the massive ravioli with a piped, local ricotta mixture that was studded with chopped black truffles. A well was formed in the cheese and she carefully dropped in these gigantic, farm-fresh egg yolks that were so bright and orange that they glimmered through the thin sheet of pasta on top.

Leigh expressed her frustration with the delicacy of the yolks and how they kept popping on her wedding ring, and ended up thrown across the kitchen. Finally, she managed to keep ten ravioli in great shape for the walk over. We gingerly simmered the pasta for a mere minute before sautéing and basting them in a thyme-brown butter sauce. We served the Uovo on a plate with some roasted wild mushrooms and freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, finished with an abnormal dowsing of white truffle oil.

My knees began to buckle while plating due to ingestion of sensual truffle fumes. We all anxiously awaited the”ta-da”,  moment where one of our forks pierced the raviolo, displaying a slow, oozing of the poached egg yolk onto the plate. It was one of the sexiest moments and bites I have ever witnessed in all my days of cooking and eating. We managed to capture the “money-shot” of the fatty yolk swirling on the plate with beads of truffle oil floating atop the surface.

I served this pasta course with a magnum of 2004 Marchesi di Barolo Cannubi Barolo that I had been decanting for over 5 hours. It opened up beautifully and displayed delicate aromas of fresh violets, cherries, and spice. The tannins in the young Nebbiolo cut through the creamy egg yolk and the truffles and Barolo were reunited again. Believe it or not, we were ready for our final savory course of the night… and making good time thanks to our impromptu dishwashers. I had made two different sauces for the beef tenderloin the night before. One was a traditional bordelaise sauce that started off by making one of the most intense beef stocks ever. I roasted pounds and pounds of bones and made a homemade stock for an entire 24 hours, periodically skimming the fat and impurities from the surface.

Then I combined the rich stock with the reduction of two bottles of dry red wine. As the sauce slowly reduced, it thickened and intensified. The other sauce I made was a simple cream sauce with freshly grated horseradish root and sliced tarragon. The balance of spicy and savory was an interesting accompaniment to the tender beef. I simply seared the five-pound roast and rolled in on my cutting board through handfuls of smashed, whole black peppercorns. As it roasted in the oven, it gave us a chance to digest and have a little fun with my new toy that I bought for the evening… a porron!

A porron is a vessel commonly seen in tapas’ bars throughout Spain. It looks like a wine decanter with a spout, and it is filled with wine that eventually gets poured directly into your mouth from very high level. The thin stream gives you just enough time to swallow and allows for pinpoint accuracy when poured from several feet in the air. Here is a video that demonstrates how the porron is used: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCqCp1ot15A. Needless to say, we managed to keep the wine out of our clothes and our carpet, and my wife was able to take a deep breath. I pulled the roast from the oven at the perfect time, and allowed the juices to redistribute before slicing it into pieces. We served it medium rare with a creamy pommes puree’, both sauces, and a roasted butternut squash and raw kale salad with chopped hazelnuts.

We figured that we needed something fresh and green to serve after all these overly rich dishes. You could cut the tenderloin of beef with a fork it was so tender and juicy. I typically prefer cuts of meat that aren’t as lean, but with the two sauces, the flavor was still booming. For the grand finale, we popped a 3.0 Liter bottle of 2006 Ladera Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon to serve with the beef. For the time it took me to pop the oversized cork on this monster, the wine better be damn good.

It was loaded with powerful blackberry, cherry, and cassis up front, and more developed, richer flavors of vanilla, toasty oak, and creamy coffee on the finish. By this time, we didn’t think anyone would be ready for dessert, but we were wrong. I ordered the double coconut cake from Sportello down the street and when we picked this thing up we didn’t realize that it weighed about twenty pounds. I’m not a big dessert guy, but whenever we eat at Sportello, I have to end the night with a sliver; it’s just that good. The shredded, toasty coconut isn’t just flaked on the outside of the frosting, but baked into each layer of cake as well. We sat around, reminiscing about the meal we just conquered, sipping on Pretty Things, St. Botolph’s Old Town Brown Ale fresh from the keg, and small glasses of 12yr old Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon.

At midnight we popped a few bottles of the 2003 Roderer Estates L’Ermitage Brut and washed back some of the leftover caviar and cheese as if we couldn’t get enough, knowing that 2012 was the start to diets and healthy lifestyles. We lasted long into the night playing silly games, picking at leftovers, and enjoying each others company. I hope that 2012 is filled with even more great food, family and friends. Happy New Year to everyone!

This time of year, I’m lucky to have enough time and energy to turn on the stove let alone create some intricate, time-consuming blog dinner. It’s clearly the busiest time of year for retail wine sales (I’m not complaining) and it’s hard to even take a deep breath until January 1st. I still wanted to get something on the plate/blog from now until Christmas so I limited myself to just a few ingredients and just a few minutes in the kitchen.

I picked up some baby, super sweet, yellow tomatoes, spinach, and fresh diver scallops; three ingredients, relying on anything else I had leftover in my fridge and pantry. I aggressively ripped open the package of tomatoes, sliced the last clove of garlic I had, a pinch of salt, pepper and a glug of olive oil, all tossed into a small pan and popped into a 375 degree oven. I felt like I was in the middle of a Top Chef, quickfire challenge except the prize wasn’t $5,000 but rather an extra thirty minutes relaxing on the couch.

I roasted the tomatoes until the paper thin skins wilted and they started to slowly implode. Once this occurs, the pan gets filled with sweet tomato juice and it starts to reduce and thicken into a beautiful, bright orange tomato sauce.

The liquid and the extra virgin olive oil creates a syrupy, garlicky emulsion, perfect for a simple, quick sauce. In the meantime, I sautéed some baby spinach with oil and lemon zest and got my sauté’ pan screaming hot for my diver scallops. These scallops were huge and smelled incredibly fresh and sweet. Before I seared them in the hot pan, I made sure to pat them dry with a paper towel to make sure all of the excess liquid is gone to prevent the scallop from steaming as opposed to searing. This is the best way to achieve that dark brown, caramelized crust.

This literally takes two minutes. Don’t even think about turning your scallop… just let it sear until it’s cooked all the way through. You’ll appreciate the beautiful sear by demonstrating severe patience and flipping restraint.

That’s it… dinner is served. Arguably the easiest meal that I’ve ever made on the blog. I garnished the scallop with a spring of fresh chervil and dusted the pile of spinach with some lemon zest.

It took literally 12 minutes from start to finish and left my wife in shock that we weren’t sitting down to eat at ten o’clock again. To celebrate the fact that despite being exhausted, we were able to sit on the couch, watch a Christmas movie, and still be in bed by 10pm, I paired this simple dish with a bottle of Prosecco.

The Voveti is one of the few Proseccos made in the brut style, which is much drier than typical Prosecco. I wouldn’t classify Prosecco as sweet by any means, but it tends to be fruiter than a classic Brut Champagne. This D.O.C “bottle of bubb”, is bone dry and crisp with flavors of granny smith apples, lemon, and yeasty bread dough. Light and refreshing to celebrate the simplicity that was on the plate in front of us. The sweet scallop rested upon the warm, acidic yet slightly rich sauce and the bitter greens were freshened up with the hints of lemon.

Unfortunately no time to hit the kitchen means no time to hit treadmill as well, so this meal was perfect for a late December special. Stay tuned for the most decadent, lavish, over-the-top New Years Eve dinner party in the history of New Years Eve dinner parties. Happy holidays to all and may your stomachs and glasses always be full!